Crazy in Love Read Online S.L. Scott

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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Bringing her closer, I wrap my arms around the small of her back, and we rock together until her breathing deepens and her eyes close from the lust. Her mouth opens, and, “Harrison,” tumbles from her lips as if I’m her savior.

When I feel the quakes building in her body, and one begins to erupt, I pull her close and begin kissing and sucking on her neck. “Yes, baby. Come for me.”

Control was lost already, and her arms tighten around my neck to relish in another orgasm. “Yes. God. Yes!” Trembling around me, she squeezes my dick until I can’t stave off my release any longer.

Letting go, I move my body on instinct, my willpower lost in the throes of her passion and soft mewls as she comes down. I fuck until part of my soul goes missing, seeking to reclaim its other half. I swear angels sing when the torture that had been packed into a compartment years ago is released. “Oh fuck.”

She slams onto me one last time before I hold her in place like the last puzzle piece that completes the big picture. I’m emptied of anything of value—my energy, soul, and heart if I’m being honest. I rest back and try to catch my breath. “You . . .” Through panting breaths, I confess, “I knew what we had was special.” I cup her face, a sheen glistening across her cheeks and chest, her skin, and a thrill still so striking in her eyes. “You’re incredible.”

Laughing softly, she says, “I might have missed you more than I realized.” She leans down and kisses my temple. The tip of her tongue dips out and swipes the salty sweat from my forehead.

“Might have?” She begins to wriggle away, so I catch her wrist, looping my hand around it gently. She’s free to go, but I like that she stays. “I’m really great at accepting compliments. You should try me and say what you mean.”

“I just bet you are.” Kissing my shoulder, she lingers before facing me again. “You were better than memory serves, and I have incredible memories of that night.”

A smirk would be justified, but I grin instead, feeling this moment with her deserves something more befitting. Lightly pinching her chin between my fingers, I say, “It was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Harrison?” she whispers, her gaze lowering between us as if I’ve gone one step too far for comfort.

“Don’t lock me out. I’m not asking for anything.” When she looks up again, I swear water shines in her eyes. The last thing I want to do is make her cry. “I just wanted to get that off my chest.”

“I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

This time, I do smirk because fuck, I’m now deep in the feels. “Me either.” I chuckle, keeping it inside because I prefer to hear her laughter, which is softer in the afterglow.

“Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me for sex?”

The corner of her mouth rises up on one side. “I’m thanking you for tonight.” She slips out of bed, and adds, “I’ll be back.”

Most women snuggle against me, wanting me to stay. Some even beg or coerce me into it. My guilt gets the better of me sometimes.

The one woman I wouldn’t mind trying to cling to me has no interest in such things. She disappears into the bathroom, leaving me lying there alone with my thoughts. With my arms spread wide, I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. When I’m with her, the mental gymnastics easily competes with the physical demands. I could lie here and go through every conversation we had to try to figure out where I stand in her world, but I’m exhausted and decide to give it a rest for now.

As my lids grow heavier, my muscles relax against the mattress. Trying to force myself to stay awake, I turn toward the closed bathroom door, and call out, “All okay in there?”

“All good!” she calls back.

I give in and close my eyes, unsure how long she’s planning to be gone.

The scent of soap and sweetness fills the air just as a warm hand grazes across my chest. A kiss to my cheek has me not only opening my eyes but reaching to hold on to the softness of her skin.

The lamp is now off, inviting darkness to stay. The night might be owning the space, but I see her. I see her bare before me in every way; her face is clean of makeup, and her hair is hanging over her left shoulder. Turning to catch her lips with mine, I ask, “What took you so long?” My voice is gruff with sleep.

Running her hand over the scruff of my face, she whispers, “Just that magic I spoke about earlier. Do you want to stay?”


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